


The Voice

by SandyD



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Shuffle Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 01:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandyD/pseuds/SandyD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I hear your voice on the wind<br/>And I hear you call out my name…</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Voice

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result from the shuffle prompt on tumblr from puzzledhats and the question from her for other people to do the same. Write a fic for the random song that comes up in your music playlist.
> 
> I got: lisa Kelly - The Voice
> 
> It took some time, this actually is the longest one-shot I ever wrote, but I got inspired and this is the result.  
> I hope you enjoy it, critiques are welcome.
> 
> Oh English isn't my first language, so I probably made some mistakes, I try to limit them, but it's possible. I also don't have a beta reader. If someone is interested I may need one if I want to write more, because of my english, contact me!
> 
> Well I think that was it, I hope I did right to the song and that you enjoy reading this!

**I hear your voice on the wind  
And I hear you call out my name…**

 

She had just been back, back in Westeros. Or she thought it was her old homeland; she still didn’t remember much, hell she didn’t even remember her own name. She was still faceless, just a girl or maybe a woman grown now. She didn’t remember how much time she had spent in Braavos; she didn’t remember how much before that in Westeros, she didn’t know how old she was. She had a womanly figure, her own figure. She felt like a stranger in this body, that was apparently her own and always had been. She kind of liked it, the slim figure, lean and muscled limbs and small curves. The most she had to get used to was her face. She already spends an hour looking into the looking glass and she gazed her face with her fingertips, her own face, and the face she was born with. It was long, with a straight nose, grey eyes which stood out; her bottom lip was a little bit fuller than her upper lip and dark wavy hair.

 

She couldn’t stay in Braavos after her failed attempt to become faceless. In her opinion she was faceless, she still didn’t remember anything, didn’t even remember her own name. The kindly old man kept saying how she was lying and not truly no one. Couldn’t he have given her name when he sent her away? She now didn’t even know where to go. She had bought a horse in Saltpans and just started riding. She took a road that went west and waited till she would remember something.

 

She was riding and saw further up the road a lofty hill. It felt like she was being watched, maybe someone did from that hill it would be a good place to see the surroundings. She didn’t know why but something drawled her to the hill. It was like someone was calling her from there. On her way to the top of the hill she remembered, High Heart, this is High Heart. There only was a ring of huge pale stumps, it was a circle of what once were mighty weirwood trees.

 

She was standing in the middle of the circle and she felt gusts of wind that almost blew her over. She started counting the stumps and she walked around them, she felt the need to do that even though she had no idea why. There were thirty-one stumps, she started crying now, since when could she cry? She wanted to know who she was and why this place was so special. She wanted to know why this place made her cry. She wanted to remember.

 

She sat upon one stump and faced the others in a circle. Maybe it wasn’t something from her past. She knew that weirwood trees had to do something with the old Gods; maybe this was a sacred place. She could hear the whistling of the wind, and the hairs in her neck stood up.

 

“Arrryaaa, aryaaa.”

 

She turned around and met blue, blue bright eyes. A boy stood in front of her, he was smiling at her and she had a strange feeling in her stomach. She stood up and wanted to reach out to the blue eyed boy. He still smiled when he was fading away.

 

“No stop, don’t leave me! Don’t leave me!” He means to leave me too, was the thought that followed and she could feel her heart ache.

**‘Listen, my child!’ you say to me,**   
**‘I am the Voice of your history,**   
**Be not afraid – come follow me,  
 **Answer my call and I’ll set you free.’****

She went North after the incident at High Heart. It felt like the wind was whispering to her, calling to her, ‘go to the North’. She dreamt at night about the blue eyed boy, she had her name back because of him. Arya, her name was Arya. It felt right and she felt grateful. The old Gods had sent her at least her name to her, even when she didn’t have memories, she had her name. She had travelled now for some time and she noticed that a lot of people travelled South, except from some armed men and some stupid men. She had met some people in an inn who told her to go south. There is nothing up North but war and dead. She soon learned that the war between the living and the dead raged on. Most people said it was lost, a lot of them wanted to leave Westeros. Maybe she shouldn’t have left Braavos, but then she heard the whispering of the wind the next day, thought of the blue eyed boy and she knew she had to go North. She had to find out who she is, and who she was. It was worth it, if dead wants to claim her after she found herself her again, it was worth it.

 

The snow blizzards were a disaster, it took her so long to travel trough those barbaric circumstances. She didn’t push her horse, it was too valuable and it could have disastrous consequences if she lost her horse. It would mean a certain dead, well maybe not really. She wasn’t travelling alone anymore and she was happy about that. She was now traveling with a caravan, a group of other people who went up North. It was good company, they joked, and one even sang not that she ever really liked songs, but it lifted the spirits. She soon learned that they used to be a part of the brotherhood without banners. She didn’t tell them her real name; she used the name she used to have in Braavos, Cat. It was easy and it still felt as a part of Arya, she didn’t know exactly the reason why. Her new companions couldn’t really help much in the Riverlands, one of them literally said:

 

“Soon the dead will walk in the Riverlands, so we can protect the people best if we follow out ol’ friends and go up North to keep the walking dead from going down.”

 

Already a part of the brotherhood was up North fighting the white walkers. She had stories of these creatures; they were the creatures of dead themselves. She wondered what the God of dead wanted with all those lives that walkers take.

 

They arrived at Moat Caitlin where they got shelter and some food. It felt like paradise, after all these times travelling through the snow and eating frozen food. She was almost falling asleep, finally getting some warmth back in her body, when she heard it. The whispering, the voices. She first wanted to ignore it, she finally was warm and she was so tired. Her curiosity got the better of her. She put a cloak that was actually a little bit too big for her, around her shoulders. She followed the whisperings, followed them outside the castle.

 

She found herself looking into the eyes of a heart tree. The red eyes bored into her bare soul, or that’s how it felt. The tree looked like it was weeping because of the red sap, but the red mouth looked to smile at the same time. The tree gave her a feeling of home and belonging. She touched the tree with her hand and could almost feel the life of the tree, the spirits of the old Gods.

 

“It’s good to see you child.”

 

She immediately turned around when she heard the voice. In front of her stood a man, she instantly recognized the same grey eyes as her own. The man smiled sweetly at her, just as the blue eyed boy had smiled at her. A feeling stirred in her, she felt so close to remembering now.

 

“Who am I?”

 

Maybe she should have asked who he was, but she thought that she would know if she knew who she was herself. The man laughed and it was one of the best sounds she had ever heard.

 

“My sweet child, you think that you’re lost. But you know who you are. You were never lost, not truly, why else would you be here? You’re almost home my sweet sweet child.”

 

She felt tears well up in her eyes and felt so frustrated. She didn’t remember, she had no memories, she was lost and she didn’t know who she was.

 

“Please tell me, please.”

 

“You’re Arya.”

 

She cried even more when he said her name. She knew her name, but she didn’t know who Arya is, who Arya was. He answered for her as he had red her mind.

 

“My sweet wild girl you know who you are. You’re the North, you’re winter, you’re Arya-“

 

She cut him off, “of house Stark.”

 

The man smiled affectionately at her and the tears kept falling, she was Arya of house Stark. Winter is coming, she was coming, coming home. She was the lone wolf and she had survived, but now she needed her pack back. She still didn’t have memories, but she could feel it.

 

“Father, father.” She sobbed, “I feel so alone, so lost, I can’t remember.”

 

“But you can, you remembered who I am. You’re memories will come with time. But never forget who you are Arya. Never forsake you’re true self. You aren’t lost yet, you will find your way home.”

 

Her father was fading away now, just like the blue eyed boy had. She could feel the panic well up in her.

 

“No, no father don’t leave me! Don’t leave me again! Don’t let me alone.”

 

“You’ll never be alone. You just have to call me and I’ll be there. I love you my sweet child.”

 

The end was barely a whisper and then he was gone. She knelt in front of the tree with tears in her eyes, “I love you to father.” 

**I am the Voice in the wind and the pouring rain,**   
**I am the Voice of your hunger and pain;  
 **I am the Voice that always is calling you,  
 **I am the Voice – I will remain******

They had passed Winterfell, her old home. She could have stayed there, but there was nothing now. It once was her home, but she can’t go there without her pack. That’s the reason that she went to the Wall with her companions. They had stayed in Wintertown one night, she didn’t remember it, but the feeling of belonging was so strong here. It felt like home even when she didn’t remember it. Wintertown gave her hope, she maybe didn’t have memories, but here people talked about the Starks. She learned about the fake Arya, she learned about the crippled King, the Lord Commander, the young wolf and the bastard girl. She wished she remembered now, it was her family and they already were together at the wall. She wondered if they would like to see her, if they wanted her back, especially now she didn’t remember them. At that moment a gust of wind remembered her with a whistle, it called her.

 

She was soaked from all the snow. It was snowing all the time; well the right time would be sleet. They were wet within a short amount of time. They decided to keep going, they were already wet and they could be at the Wall before twilight.

 

They never arrived at the Wall. It was just a huge camp of people, crows, wildlings and armed men. They soon learned that the Wall has fallen. This was now a whole army to fight the white walkers. This was the real war, the war between life and dead. They were welcomed when they arrived. They were lead to a tent, got dry clothes and now they were seated next to a fire, waiting for the Lord Commander and the three kings to welcome her.

 

Seven men and three women walked into the tent and one man introduced them.

 

“Lord Commander Snow, King of the North Bran Stark, the young wolf Prince Rickon Stark, Princess Sansa Stark, Mance Rayder, Val, King Stannis Baratheon, Lord Davos Seaworth, the Lady Melisandre, Prince Gendry Baratheon.”

 

Her eyes widened, but she kept quiet. She studied the faces of her siblings. She wanted to remember them so badly. All the Starks had beautiful auburn hair and Tully blue eyes, like mother. Then she smiled, because she remembered that detail. The Lord Commander had the same grey eyes and dark hair, he’s my brother to. Jon Snow and then she remembered the last time she saw him. She had hugged him so close, but most of all she remembered the small sword he had given her, Needle. She had hidden it in Braavos, but she had forgotten it and now it was still in Braavos. Needle was her everything and she forgot it; she had to apologize to Jon and thank him all the same. Needle had helped her, but this was a new chapter of her life, she was back with her pack. Then one of her companions spoke up and then she noticed the rest of the people.

 

“So y’er a Prince now?” the man joked and then hugged one of the man they had introduced.

 

She took a closer look and lost her breath when she saw his eyes. It was the same blue, it was the same boy, but older. He was even bigger, broader, bulkier, even more a bull then he was before. Her eyes widen, she remembered a little bit. He was a bullheaded-boy, he was the bull, and he had been her only friend. She was happy that no one paid her any attention. The men were catching up, trading jokes, but then it was silent again. The first time someone noticed her was when Tom introduced her as Cat.

 

The crippled King smiled at her while he was seated in his ‘throne’, it was more a big chair.

 

“We have been waiting for you sister. I saw you through the weirwood tree. I knew you were coming.”

 

She heard a common gasp from everyone around her and maybe she even gasped herself. How did he know? She hadn’t even known herself who she was. She was too afraid to speak up. How could she admit that she had forgotten? That she didn’t remember? She wanted to remember, she really wanted to. Tears were falling down and she knelt to the ground, it felt like all her strength had left. He spoke up again.

 

“Sshh sweet sister, I know I know. You will remember again. Welcome back, welcome home Arya.”

 

She sobbed at the mention of her name and before she could say anything a man pulled her to her feet. She hugged her brother again, just like ages ago. She kept crying and soon she noticed that she was left alone with her siblings, the official introductions will be later.

 

“I knew you were alive. I knew it!”

 

“Arya, ooh Arya.”

 

She hugged all of them. She cried together with Sansa, her annoying older sister. She kissed Bran on the cheek, the last time she saw him he was unconscious. She saw herself in Rickon, who was just a baby when she saw him for the last time. He didn’t remember her, just like she didn’t remember him. That night when she slept her first memories came back in her dreams.

 

She was reunited with her family for a few weeks now. She spends all time she could with them and she was happy that the fighting hadn’t started yet. She had started to remember, she remembered parts of her life at Winterfell and Sansa helped her with remembering Kings Landing. She still had a lot of gaps, but she felt like herself again. She found out who she was and is now. She had met the other two Kings, Mance and Stannis, in the meantime. She liked Mance well enough, but she didn’t like Stannis with his red woman. She never really liked R’hollor and his fires.

 

She woke up in the middle of the night, by the wind and she heard the whispering again. It had been some time that she had heard it; she thought it stopped now she had her pack back. She sneaked out of the tent she shared with Sansa; she was stealthy so it wasn’t a really problem. She followed the voices and whispers and then she saw a figure sitting by a small fire. Soon she recognized him; she slowly stepped towards him, but stopped when he looked up. His blue eyes were unsettling and she hugged the cloak tighter around her, not that it helped against the sudden riling over her body. It wasn’t from the cold. He looked back to the fire and she knew she had to say something.

 

“Thank you.” Why did her voice sound so little?

 

He looked at her with a puzzled expression, but he still didn’t say anything.

 

“For giving my name back to me.”

 

He got a pained look on his face and it ached something inside her, it had some familiarity. He signed for her to sit down. She slowly stepped closer and sat down next to him.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

He had a deep voice and it was gruffer than the voice with which he had called out her name.   

 

“I didn’t remember and then you said my name, at High Heart. I asked you for not leaving me and then you faded away.”

 

The pained expression was again on his face. She saw that he didn’t understand her, but she knew for sure it had been him. It couldn’t be her imagination, because that same man was sitting in front of her. He still looked pained and she knew he wouldn’t say anything, still too deep in thought.

 

“Do you know me?”

 

It was a simple, but maybe strange question. She had the feeling she knew him, how else did she thought of a bull while seeing him and while else did she had the feeling that he was the only true friend she had left. That wasn’t true off course, she had her family. He responded with a dry laugh, but his eyes looked a little bit brighter or was that the reflection of the flames?

 

“I don’t know. If you want to know if we have a history together, than the answer is yes. If you asked me if I knew you, than the answer is yes. I knew Arry, Weasel, Nan and Squab. But I don’t know if I know Cat and I don’t know if I know Princess Arya.”

 

“Tell me about them; tell me about Arry, Weasel, Nan and Squab. Please tell me about our history.”

 

And so he did and she started to remember. All the pain and hunger they had fought. She remembered the day she almost lost him at Harrenhall, she remembered how the hound took her and the last thing she heard was his voice, calling out her name, while the rain poured down and the Gods wept for them.   

**I am the Voice in the fields when the summer’s gone,**   
**The dance of the leaves when the autumn winds blow;  
 **Ne’er do I sleep throughout all the cold winter long;  
 **I am the force that in the springtime will grow.******

The battles with the White Walkers were though, but the war was never lost. She was still pissed at Jon that he didn’t let her fight. He tried to keep her out of this war. But she could fight, she killed many man. She was the servant of dead, she was dead’s child, and she certainly could fight dead. Jon didn’t bend, and maybe he had a point. Arya could kill, but she had been an assassin, fighting in a battle is different. Not that she’ll tell Jon that. He would be too smug about it and then she will never fight.

 

She started to remember more and more. She remembered the end of summer; it was the moment her father, Sansa and her left Winterfell for King’s Landing. She remembered the last hot summer days in King’s Landing. She remembered chasing cats, dancing lessons and the Sept of Bealor.  
She remembered the cold rainy days on the Kingsroad. She remembered all the dead people and people traveling south, trying to walk away from autumn. It was not possible, summer was officially over and autumn was there. She remembered the gold cloaks. She remembered the bull. She remembered Hot Pie. She remembered Lommy, Weasel, Harrenhall, the tickling, the faceless man, soup, Roose Bolton, Vargo Hoat, escaping, running, the brotherhood, the archer, the red priest, Harwin, Tom O’seven, the maiden of the tree, Acorn Hall, the Peach, Lord Beric, Edric Dayne, crabapple and the hound. Every time she remembered something it felt like she got herself back a little bit more.

 

They had won the war from the dead, after years of cold winter winds and rising death. The wights were killed and the others to, or they went back to their ice tomb to sleep till the next winter. The dead men were burned, the wounded were taken care of and now there was a big feast in the biggest tent that functioned as a dining hall. Now it was set up for a party, there even was a big space for dancing. She was seated together with her siblings and the spirits were lifted high. It almost felt like Winterfell, almost. She was talking with her siblings, but slowly their attention was with something else. Bran was talking or she could better say courting Meera Reed, she really liked that girl. Sansa was soon on the dance floor, it was almost funny to saw her proper sister dancing with wildlings, but sometimes a crow, or knight would dance with her. Rickon had moved earlier to another table, to sit with his wildling friends from Skagos. Jon was too busy talking about the future with Stannis, Davos, Gendry and Melisandre; she still didn’t like that woman. Mance didn’t participate, he was singing songs, together with Tom and there were some more singers.

She was getting a little bit bored, but then she saw Anguy making his way to Jon and Stannis.

 

“If you don’t mind m’lords I would like to steal your Prince for a while. It’s been some time since we have spoken and I would like to drink something with him.”

 

Stannis just nods his head and Gendry looked relieved. The bastard, he was just relieved of the boring discussions and she was still seated at this table. It got even worse when men try to court her. Eventually even Edric Dayne asked her to dance, how could he? She had spoken a few times with him and the Lord had gotten even more handsome with the years, but she was not interested and he knew it. Or she thought she made that pretty clear. Wildlings weren’t really proper, but they weren’t going to steal the princes away with her brothers so close by. She was more than annoyed from boredom and stupid men.

 

“Aren’t my songs good enough for ye to dance?”

She turned around and looked into Tom’s eyes. The singer looked amused and she glared at him and then signed.

 

“It aren’t your songs. Just don’t feel like dancing.” With stupid men, who try to court you to get into your pants, she thought.

 

“I will play ye any song ye want, but please I want to see m’princess have fun instead of looking like she will kill the next person who tries to lift her spirits. It’s a feast! Choose a man and choose a song!”

 

She wanted to protest, but Tom already dragged her from the table. He had courage or no self preservation. She had her dagger tight to her upper leg, but she didn’t really want to make a scene out of it. And it would seem as if she would steal tom as man or something like that in wildling tradition and she didn’t want that at all. She was now standing next to the table with all the man of the brotherhood. Anguy smiled with a crooked smile and put his arm around her shoulder.

 

“So who gets the honor to dance with the Princess?” He signed with his hands to show that she can choose from anyone in the whole hall. “You can always choose me. I would love to dance with m’princess.”

 

She shrugged his arm from her shoulder and narrowed her eyes at Anguy and then at Tom, but was clear that she didn’t had a choice. They would never leave her alone. She signed and looked around, ignoring the smiles of triumph from them.

 

In that moment she remembered a song, a disheveled dress and a boy. That boy was now a man, but still as bull-headed as he was back then. She didn’t know exactly when he became more to her then a friend. Maybe it was when he came back from a battle wounded and she feared for his live. Or maybe the moment when she heard the story that a wildling woman had tried to steal him. But probably it was before all that, before winter, before Braavos. It was the moment that she had trusted him with her name. Then he was already more, even when she didn’t truly understand it back then. She still didn’t really understand him, just that she was his and she hoped that he thought of him being hers. He was now nursing a drink and talking with Harwin, not really paying attention to her, the archer and the singer. She then turned to Tom.

 

“The maiden of the tree.”

 

The singer smile grew when she had said that and started laughing.

 

“As you wish m’princess. Get yer man now.”

 

She ignored his wink and stalked to Gendry.

 

“C’mere stupid,” she pulled as his arm, “We’re going to dance.”

 

It wasn’t a question; it was even more an order. She just felt so nervous and she was so afraid that he would reject her and this was her way of dealing with those feelings. Gendry turned to her, first looking a little bit puzzled, but then he smirked.

 

“Off course m’lady.”

 

She pushed him in the arm for that, he knew she hated that nickname. He just chuckled and followed her to the dance floor. She put her hands on his shoulders and then she heard the first chords of the maiden of the tree. Gendry had his hands on her waist, but soon they moved even closer to each other, forgetting the world around them. He kept smiling and leaned his forehead against hers. Her hands were now around his neck and there was no space between their bodies. She closed her eyes and kissed him when the song ended.

 

She knew that this was the beginning. Winter ended and springtime was here.

**I am the Voice of the past that will always be,**   
**Filled with my sorrows and blood in my fields;  
 **I am the Voice of the future…****

She was finally home, in Winterfell. Together with her family, they were not complete, but it wouldn’t get better. The land had been divided between the three kings. Mance had the land that used to be above the wall, so the wildlings could keep living in freedom, in their free land. Bran was King in the North, it wasn’t an accurate title, because Mance’s kingdom was more north, but people kept calling it the North. Stannis was King of the six kingdoms, the King in the South.

 

Winterfell was almost back to its former glory. The walls were still warm from the water that was running through it. It felt all so familiar. She loved the godswood with the clearing and the heart tree the most. It was unimpaired, this sacred place wasn’t changed, hadn’t been burned. The three grew red leaves again, a sign that spring was surely here. The white ravens already had been sent. All of Westeros was repairing itself from all the wars.

 

People were afraid a new war was coming, because of the Targaryen girl and her dragons. She apparently had met Edric Storm in the Free Cities. Stannis only wanted to leave his seat if they would be married, in that way there was still a Baratheon King. Because of course Edric was legitimized, just as Gendry was.

 

Gendry, her bull-headed man. He was a prince for a while, but it was clear that he didn’t want that. He didn’t even want a holdfast and Arya couldn’t be happier. It maybe was selfish, but she was really happy that Gendry stayed with her in Winterfell. She probably would have left her home for him, but she was glad that she didn’t have to make that choice.

 

She was praying in front of the heart three, she did that a lot lately. She had found the old Gods back. In the wind, the whistling and the voices that brought her home. She hadn’t seen her father again, but she knew he was there watching her, together with mother and Robb.

 

“The wolves are home father. I wish you could have been here with us. Just like mom and Robb. You could have seen how Bran put the Stark cloak around Meera’s shoulders, she is a good queen. You could have seen all the proposals for Sansa and more lovely how she refused them. She has found a wildling, can you imagine your proper lady daughter with a wilding? You could have seen how Rickon terrorizes Wintertown with Shaggydog and that he travels quite a lot to White Harbor. You could have seen how good Jon organized everything, he actually is the adviser of all three kings. They all trust him and he is actually the one who rules Westeros. He wouldn’t admit it, but he is the most powerful man. You would be proud of them, of all of them. And I, I would have introduced you to the man I love. You’re wild girl has found someone that she will marry, willingly. Who thought that day would come and now it’s here.”

 

She laughed at her own descriptions and smiled to the three.

 

“Never forget that we are watching over you.”

 

She turned around and there her father and mother were standing, together with her brother, Grey Wind and Lady.

 

“Robert was right all along. Baratheon and Stark, meant to be together.”

 

“I’m so proud of you my daughter, my wild daughter. I’m so happy to see what you and your siblings are doing.”

 

“Who had thought my wild sister is getting married, I kind of feel sorry for that guy.”

 

They all had affectionate smiles, tears were rolling down her face and she smiled back and knelt to the ground.

 

“Thank you. I wish you all were here today. I miss you and I love you.”

 

When she looked up her father, mother and brother were gone.

 

People had lined up and a path had been made between the people, to the heart tree. She had found herself again, Arya of house Stark and at the end of this day she will be Arya of house Baratheon. It was a new chapter, a new time has come and it promised so much for the future. She looked at the handsome man in front of her, her true friend. He gave her his cloak, promised his protection, promised to never leave her again.

 

She knew he hated himself for that, he told her that that was his only regret. She wondered if he still would regret it, now that they ended up here, married. She would ask him later, but not now, now was not the time.

 

They kissed, danced and laughed. It wasn’t a big feast and she was happy about that. It was hard to convince the King and Queen that they didn’t want a big wedding gift or wedding preparation. They just wanted their friends to be there. She again ignored the wink from Tom. She looked annoyed at Anguy when he claimed that they had to thank him, otherwise this wouldn’t have happened. It was only complete when Tom played the maiden of the tree for their wedding dance. It was their love song, it had been at Acorn Hall, it had been when they first kissed and now it was with their first wedding dance.

 

There was no bedding ceremony, it was just them walking to their chambers. He laid her down on the bed and they kissed passionately. They hadn’t lain together yet, him with his damned honor. But it was worth it, because now she had him for the rest of her life. He was hers and she was his. They knew that from the moment he discovered she was a girl and she had trusted him with her name. Their love only had grown since that moment and she wondered how much more she could love, trust and desire him.

 

Sansa was holding her hair when she vomited and that was the moment she knew. It wasn’t the best way to start a day, but she couldn’t feel better after her stomach was empty. She was married to Gendry for two years and sometimes she wondered if she was barren, apparently she wasn’t. Her last period already was two moons to late, but she hadn’t thought about the possibility that she would be pregnant. In their first year together she already panicked when she was a few days late, now she didn’t really worried about it anymore. She never had felt the desire to be a mother, but she always had liked children. She thought about little Weasel who hung at her all the time, the poor girl.

 

Sansa also understood and looked at her with big eyes and a bright smile.

 

“Do you want anything Arya?”

 

In the meantime she helped her back to her bed. Arya would never admit weakness, but she felt a little dizzy after emptying her stomach.

 

“Can you get me something to drink? Food? And maybe some peppermint?”

 

Sansa nodded and Arya’s own happiness was also shown on Sansa’s face. She thought nobody had ever looked so happy after vomiting in history. Sansa turned to the door and Arya stopped her before she would leave.

 

“And can you get Gendry after my breakfast, preferably after I took the peppermint. Oh and find someone who can clean that up please?”

 

She pointed to the vomit and after that Sansa left. Soon after she left a servant came in and cleaned it up.

 

“You don’t feel well m’princess? I hope you feel better soon.”

 

Arya thanked her and tried to hide her beaming, it wouldn’t do good if the servants started gossiping already. Gendry had to know first.

 

As promised Gendry came after breakfast. She was still drinking the peppermint tea and chewing on the peppermint leaves. She was happy that the fool taste was replaced with the fresh minty taste of peppermint and she thought Gendry also would appreciate it after she told him. There wasn’t any doubt, she knew for sure. She smiled at him when he walked in and her smile grew at his look of concern.

 

“Arya are you okay? Why are you still in bed?”

 

She beckoned him over to sit by her. He knew her to well, she hated to stay long in bed, she was to restless for that. It also was the first time she asked for someone to fetch him. She tried to hide her smile, but it was really hard when he was carefully sitting next to her. She saw him thinking, now she couldn’t hide her laugh.

 

“Stop thinking, you will get wrinkles.” She smiled to reassure him, “It’s nothing just feel a little bit dizzy after I vomited.”

 

His eyebrows raised and his look of concern was back. “You say it’s nothing? Did you eat something wrong? Or do you have a stomach flu? Did the maester already look at you?  I will get him!”

 

He was already up his feet and bolted for the door. In that moment she couldn’t hold her laugh anymore.

 

“Come back stupid. No I will see him later today, but I know the reason why I vomited.”

 

The pained expression was back on his face and she beckoned him over again, but now she was still chuckling. She saw the doubt in his movements, but then he walked back to her. She smiled and grabbed one of his hands, she laid the other hand on his cheek. She moved forward to him, so now she was sitting on her knees in front of him. She squeezed his hand and gave him a small kiss on the lips before she moved her mouth to his ear.

 

She whispered softly, “I’m with child, we’re pregnant.”

They never left their bed that day, all responsibilities damned. Arya learned that she could love even ore, just because of this small promise for the future.

**  
Bring me your peace, bring me your peace, and my wounds they will heal**

She was heavy with child, it could come any day now and she was anxiously waiting for her husband to return. She hated the Queen and his brother the King for summoning him. It was for a good reason, his brother had been sick and even when she still didn’t like Melisandre, and she could save Edric with Gendry’s blood. She hated blood magic, but was there even a choice? Gendry hadn’t wanted to go, he didn’t want to leave her again. Jon started to beg him to go and her brother even asked her to give him her blessing to go. She hated it, she didn’t want to let him go, but it was selfish to keep him, he could save Edric. Now she wished she never had let him go, she needed her husband with her, the baby was almost born. She had been looking out of the window all the time, before she was bedridden.

 

She looked up when she heard commotion from the square. She tried to go out of her bed, but handmaiden immediately pushed her down back in bed. A few moments later Sansa walked in, she had never seen Sansa look so white. Sansa send everyone away and Arya could see her reluctance to say anything. Then her eyes widen in realization and Sansa was instantly at her side and hold her hand that was now shaking.

 

“No please Sansa, no.”

 

He couldn’t be, but Sansa didn’t deny anything. Her eyes just darted away, she didn’t want to make eye contact. Sansa then cleared her troth and looked at her.

 

“He is fatally injured. It had happened on the road two days ago, some outlaws robbed them. He isn’t dead yet, but the maester can’t do anything for him at this moment.”

 

She silently listened, he is not dead yet. He will survive, he is to stubborn to die. He can’t leave me, he wouldn’t. In that moment she wished she had made the selfish decision. The God of dead wanted a Baratheon and if it wasn’t the one than it would be the other. She tried to leave her bed, but Sansa stopped her.

 

“Let me go! Let me go! I need to see him! Please let me go!”

 

She was crying and her voice sounded desperate. Sansa let go of her then and even helped her to her feet. She cradled her stomach that was huge in comparison to her own lean body, it looked so out of place. Sansa supported her and when they were out the door a handmaiden supported her to. Tears were still running down her face and she cursed her stomach in that moment. It couldn’t be true, it was all a bad dream.

 

But it wasn’t. He was laying there on the bed and he looked up when he heard them. He tried to smile, but it wasn’t more than a grimace. The first thing she noticed were the bloodied bandages, a normal person already would be dead. He isn’t a normal person he is still too stubborn to die, she had a small smile but that soon faded away. She rushed to his side as fast as her stomach would allow.

 

“You should be in your bed m’lady.”

 

She laughed at that, a dry humorless laugh. She couldn’t do anything about it, nothing could help him now.

 

“You stupid, stupid.” Her eyes watered again and he gave a sad smile. He lifted his shaking arm and tried to brush the tears away. “I should never have let you go. I should have never! I should have known. The God of dead claims what’s his. It’s my fault! I should have known!”

 

He shook his head, “No Arya, no one could have known that the outlaws would be there.”

 

He still didn’t understand, he didn’t know the laws of dead. She had forgotten them and now he paid the price. It wasn’t fair, life wasn’t fair. She was finally happy, they would be a family. He finally would have had a family. She hated the Gods she hated them, but she hated herself more in that moment.

 

“Thank you.” His voice already started to sound more raspy. No, no she needed more time. Please she needed more time. “You gave me everything, I thought I could never have.”

 

There were tears in his eyes to and she clung to his hand, she was afraid that she would lose him if she would let go of him. The look in his eyes started to become more distant and everyone knew what that meant.

 

“Arya please take care of him or her.” She nodded in response, she couldn’t speak there was a lump in her throat. He took a raspy breath and looked her in the eye.

 

“You have to let me go.” She shook her head, she couldn’t. “Please Arya give me your blessing, give me peace, please give me peace.”

 

She sobbed and looked at him and she could only grant him his last wish. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear: “Rest in peace my love. I will see you on the other side.” She gave him one final kiss. She treasured the kiss even when she as dead his child sucked the life out of him. He was gone when she pulled away, a small restful smile on his lips and his eyes closed. No wrinkles, no painful look. He looked peaceful.

**I am the Voice in the wind and the pouring rain,**   
**I am the Voice of your hunger and pain;  
 **I am the Voice that always is calling you,  
 **I am the Voice******

She was sitting in front of the heart tree, like she did often. A few meters away from her sat a small black haired boy playing in the grass. The boy looked up to her and her heart ached when she saw his bright blue eyes. He ran to her with flowers in his hands.

 

“For you, mama,” he normally wasn’t this enthusiastic, he was actually a reserved boy. He only showed his excitement and fire when they were alone. She smiled at him, she remembered a time she brought her father flowers that she had found.

 

“Thank you! They are beautiful! Just as my man.”

 

She pulled him in her arms and hugged him tight. He was her everything, Robb Baratheon. He was named after her brother, but also after his grandfather from who he has the looks. He hugged her back and then sat down in her lap.

 

She still longed for Gendry and even Robb couldn’t fill the pain in her heart, in her soul. But her boy gave her a reason to live, she didn’t know what she had done without him. She maybe would have done the same as Ashara Dayne, thrown herself from one of Winterfell’s towers with a broken heart as reason. She couldn’t do it, not when she had her boy, their son to look after. She longed for the time that she would reunite with Gendry, but before then she would be there for their son. She tells her son about his father, their journey and their love. Her son who would grow up fatherless, she would tell him how much his father loved him before he was even born yet.

 

She strokes his hair, he felt asleep in her arms and she felt peaceful for the first time in ages.

 

There was a gust of wind and a familiar riling went through her body. The last time she had felt it was on her wedding day. She looked behind her back, she kept seated not to wake her son. She expected to see her father and looked shocked when she saw him, the old Gods never were is Gods and still they allowed him to be her. She already felt a tear escape her eye, just by the look of him. He sat behind her arms wrapped around her, before she could process what was happening.

 

“I miss you.” She said and leaned into him. It didn’t even matter if it was a dream, she hadn’t felt so happy and full since Gendry died.

 

She could almost feel the laugh, a laugh full of happiness. She wished that this was real, that all the other thing were just a nightmare, and that he was still alive. This was how it was supposed to be, the three of them as a family.

 

“I wish I could help you.” His soft whisper caused goose bumps on her skin. “I am so proud of you and so proud of him.”

 

She could hear the love in his voice and sadness that seeped in. She didn’t want to be sad now, she could do that later. This was maybe the only time she would see him, feel him. She was so afraid for what would come, he would fade away, she knew.

 

“Please don’t leave me,” the tears were rolling freely now, “please stay.”

 

She knew it was not possible, it was just wistful thinking. It was just her heart that longed for him.

 

“I never left. I’m always watching you and him, always. Never forget that, never.”

 

She took a breath and the warmth that was just on her back was gone, he was gone. She caressed the hair of the boy in her arms and smiled. She pulled him up and she walked with him in her arms inside, it was getting late.

 

“Mama why did you cry, are you hurt?” the boy laid down his fork and looked full of concern to his mother.

 

She laughed and shook her head. They were alone in the great hall, eating in private.

 

“No, no my sweet boy,” she ruffled his hair, “I’m happy, that’s why I cried.”

 

She could imagine it, but she swore that she felt a wind and heard a soft voice whispering, “I love you.”

**I am the Voice of the past that will always be**   
**I am the Voice of your hunger and pain;  
 **I am the Voice of the future…****

He couldn’t look at her, she looked so vulnerable and sick.

 

“Bring me to the heart three, please. I want to be there.”

He couldn’t refuse her last wish, he scooped her up from the bed and walked through the castle, the godswood to the clearing and the heart tree. He laid her down in the grass and a small smile played on her lips.

 

“Thank you.”

 

He didn’t know what to do, his mother was dying and he could do nothing. She had seen her grandchildren grow up, all favored his looks, and she was old. He just didn’t want to let go of his mother, she always had been there with him. She told him stories of her adventures, his father, encouraged him to get his love and now she wouldn’t be there to give him advice.

 

She laughed and he looked confused at her. She caressed her cheek and smiled at him.

 

“You remind me of myself, my sweet son. I didn’t want to let go, but you have to, I also did. Please let me go, I’ve been in this place to long for my liking. Let me go in peace, please.”

 

He took a shaky breath, “How?” He didn’t know what else to ask.

 

She smiled and looked behind him to the heart tree and smiled.

 

“It’s been a long time, my love.”

 

His mother was crying and he followed her gaze and there he saw a man standing. He was a copy of himself and the man was smiling to. Then he met the gaze of his mother.

 

“You know how. Please let me go in peace,” she looked back at the heart three and the man that was standing there, holding out his hand for her. His mother was crying and smiling at the same time. “We have been separated for so long, please give me my peace.”

 

She looked him deeply in his eyes and then he nodded, “Rest in peace mother, I love you.”

 

He gave her a kiss on her forehead and then there was no life anymore in her eyes.

 

They buried his mother next to his father, the man he had never known, but his mother had loved him all her life. He went to the heart tree that night. He shuddered when a wind went through is bones and he opened his eyes.

 

His mother was sitting in front of him, well the image of his mother when she was younger. She was sitting in the arms of a muscular man, who looked so much like him that it was almost scary. She was laughing and the couple was kissing, without paying him any attention. In that moment he knew that his mother was happy and in peace. She had been separated from her love long enough and now he also could find peace in the loss of his mother.

 

She then turned to him and gave him the brightest smile he had ever seen on her face. The man also looked at him with a smile, maybe a little bit more reserved, but his eyes spoke of love and happiness.

 

“Thank you.” His father’s voice was deep and a shudder went through him and he just nodded in acknowledgement.

 

“Never forget, we watch over you and the family. We’ll always be there for you, just call when you need us.” His mother’s voice sounded familiar, but so young and full of happiness. “We love you.”

 

Then they were gone, but sometimes he felt a gust of wind and he could hear laughter, yelling and loving murmurs.

 

**  
I am the Voice… I am the Voice…I am the Voice… I am the Voice.**


End file.
